The Lincoln Conspiracy
by Quinton Notwen
Summary: When Christina and Samuel are struck down, the Doctor is forced to take them back to 1865 to set right something that went wrong, but in doing so, can they live with the results?


**disclaimer: Look, I'm neither Verity Lambert, or Russel T Davies, trust me if I were, this story would already be made, and be better by ten fold, probably, so I'm just taking these characters out for a test-drive and promise to bring them back in generally one piece. **

Christina screamed. She felt her skin boil and everything in her burn, she tried to look over at Samuel, but her vision was obscured by an orange haze. The pain built behind her eyes and she could feel it burning through her body.

Suddenly something heavy caught her around the midriff she was tugged and almost tossed backwards. The pain subsided and she tried to look around but her body was too busy trying to ascertain what was going on. Her mind was flooded with sensations and soon she felt too tired to do anything and she closed her eyes.

* * *

"Unh…" Christina rubbed her head. She slowly opened her eyes. It was blurry at first but the scent of dust and expanse and ancientness told her where she was. She turned her head, and then wished she hadn't as an invisible knife stabbed her through the crown of her head.

"Ah, you're awake." It was the Doctor's voice but it was loud and brash and it hurt. "Don't try to get up too fast, you're bodies' are still…adjusting."

It was then she realized he wasn't talking directly at her. She looked and found Samuel sitting next to her in a similar state of disheveledness. She winced as she tried to look down at her feet. It felt like she was having a hang over.

"What…what happened?" was the question that went through her head but seemed to come out of the lips of Samuel.

"Ah, that would be complicated." the Doctor replied, Christina soon realized that they were sitting a the base of the dais and the Doctor was fiddling with the console. He stepped down and squatted in front of them far too gingerly for Christina's liking. He was smiling, something else Christina didn't like, not because it was an unattractive smile or because she didn't like him, but because well, she felt like something an elephant had left on the Serengeti and felt no one should look as not in pain as he did at this moment. His fingers were interlaced together. "You see, time as you experience it is a bit of an illusion. Everyone just assumes it goes from A to B to C to D…when in fact…it's more like ABCD all at the same time…only not."

"Am I still dying or is he just talking gibberish?" Samuel asked, looking to Christina like a half eaten Mike Tyson opponent.

The Doctor frowned slightly and took a deep breath. "Ok, how about this, the universe and time and everything is like a big ball of…semi-solid gelatin, all wibbley-wobbly…" The Doctor stood up and then slowly helped Samuel and Christina up. "Now, that being said it's got all this stuff flowing through it particles and stuff. Quantum discharges bouncing backwards and forwards through what you'd consider causality."

"Look, my head's pounding." Christina said, rather infuriated that she was being subjected to this when she hurt so badly.

"Ok, we defeated the Krynoid, but…I already saw the Krynoid's victory in the future." The Doctor said, taking another deep breath which seemed to be a bit more exasperated than the first one. "Since I am who I am, that means well, the universe kind of went into shock. Firstly, the entire timeline that was the Krynoid future had a hard crash. This unleashed an absurd amount of particles into the universe pushing them like a storm surge backwards and forwards through time."

"Ok…I think I'm getting this…" Samuel said, Christina was glad someone was.

"Right, the particles from the Krynoid-future's collapse swept backwards and forwards through time, causing a change in history that resulted in your waveforms collapsing completely to zero, ie you went from possibly existing to being an impossibility." the Doctor explained, he even gripped the lapels of his frocked jacket a little, giving him the appearance of a smug professor.

"Sorry, lost you there at about…well…the beginning" Christina blinked. "You mean to say we never existed."

"Sort of, you existed; it's just that you've no longer continued to have existed…really…" the Doctor said, smiling, again much too happily.

"So these particles changed history…" Samuel said rubbing his head.

"Yep, happens all the time really, small changes, planets shifting microns backwards and forwards, every once in a very great while an entire civilization gets snuffed out of history, no one notices - well, almost no one, my people and a handful of others might notice if we're particularly interested." The Doctor said, turning to the console and looking at a monitor before turning back around to them. "But you two were in the TARDIS when the quantum surge came through, and the TARDIS, being what it is, is a bit shielded from certain causality affects. It's a sort of temporal grace, though, I wouldn't trust it too much tends to leak a bit…in fact you may have a bit of amnesia here and there."

Christina looked at the console the middle column was moving up and down. "We're moving…"

"Yes, I'm tracking down the surge." The Doctor said, casting his eyes back at the blinking and flashing lights on the console. "Trying to figure out what precisely changed see if we can't try and fix it."

"How can we fix it?" Samuel asked, stepping slowly up onto the dais.

"Well, the surge changed history, we'll go and change it back. The problem is that it was one of those tiny decisions, inconsequential looking at first. Even with a surge this powerful the size and girth of the universe tends to dilute any immediate effects. It takes an incredibly powerful and incredibly focused force to be able to do any real damage to specific points of history…" The Doctor said almost in a fatherly fashion as he flicked lit switches and turned Jules Vernesian cranks. "That being said, the surge is really just a wave of choices rippling backward and forward through time, building and building with each new choice…" There was a loud ding, interrupting the Doctor. He looked up as an old style market ticker started to print something out. He rushed over to it and stared at the paper as it spat out. He then rushed to the console. "Got it!" He shouted as he pulled a lever.

The entire ship lurched to the left as the Doctor snagged another lever and pulled it out, turned it and pushed it in, bring the ship level again. The engines below deep inside screeched loudly in their mechanically organic fashion as the crystals in the center column squeezed together and pulled apart in a strained and fashion.

"What's going on!?" Christina shouted.

"Found the point of change, or at least the detectable one!" the Doctor shouted as he pushed three buttons. "March 17th, 1865..."

* * *

"Are you sure you won't be going to the reception at the National, sir?" John Hardman asked as he followed a much taller man in a in black evening jacket towards the door of the Old Soldiers home. John Hardman had been a secretary for the President since the beginning of the war, though never important or historically prestigious, he had stayed when many other young men had left due to stress.

"No, me and the Missus have had enough of politics for the evening, plus I hear production company that will be performing at the military hospital put on a magnificent showing of _Still Waters Run Deep._ Not to be missed." the taller man reached up for a tall stovepipe top hat and rested it on his dark, wavy, thinning hair. "We shall be back later this evening. I can trust you have eyes to see and ears to hear all the pomp and happenstance. Plus it's the governor's night, and we wouldn't want the federal government to get into the state's business." the president tapped the side of his nose and smiled. He turned and took his wife's arm. "Just send my acknowledgements and make it seem like I was there, Hardman."

"Of course Mr. President, sir." Hardman said nodding as President Lincoln walked out the door, his cadre of guards were already outside awaiting him.

Mr. Hardman nodded and turned to get ready.

* * *

"Come along, we have to hurry." the Doctor said as he ran in front of Christina and Samuel.

"That's easy for you to say, you're not in a dress down to your ankles!" Christina shouted as she tried to run, hiking the black dress up to her hips, and still finding that the fabric got caught in her shoes.

"I told you, if you went out there in what you had on…you'd have been jailed for nudity." The Doctor replied as he rounded the corner. He held up a small triangular device that beeped excitedly. "This way, come on!"

"Why such a rush?" Samuel panted, he was in a gray, cotton shirt with a pair of pants similar to the ones the Doctor had on. "I mean the TARDIS is a time machine."

"We've only got a few shots at this…" the Doctor replied. "If we don't sew up the nexus points right we'll have a whole storm of trouble on our hands…"

"Like getting disintegrated by the universe isn't a big enough threat." Samuel replied as he ran behind the Doctor. His feet squishing on the muddy roads.

"Yes, that's part of it." The Doctor replied. "Us being here has barely opened up your waveform, otherwise you'd be trapped in the TARDIS." He looked to the device in his hand. "Not long now, we should be just about…"

The Doctor looked up, there it was the Old Soldiers' Home. There was a carriage waiting, and a group of military men standing about it. Samuel and Christina ran up next to him, panting. The doors to the Soldiers' home opened, and they both looked up, in complete disbelief.

"That's…that's really him, Abraham Lincoln, the Abraham Lincoln..." Samuel said, standing up, and staring at the figure stepping out of the house.

"He's a bit thinner than I'd imagined…" Christina admitted.

"Commander and Chief during a civil war…best diet there is…" The Doctor said in a semi-attached way. He towards the carriage, raising one of his hands. "Mr. President, Mr. President!"

"He's nuts…" Samuel said as he rushed after the Doctor, Christina followed, once again hiking her dress up.

Samuel and Christina were only a few steps behind the Doctor but they could already see the disaster coming. The military men were pointing guns at him. He was slowly raising his hands. One of the military men walked forward, pushing through the other ones.

"Who are you?" the man said, his gray eyes glaring at the Doctor.

"Agent Hardwell, British special intelligence." The Doctor said quickly, as if he'd had this planned the whole time. "I have important information about a conspiracy…"

"Lieutenant, what is going on?" the President was looking over at them.

Christina couldn't help but blush at the idea that one of the greatest American presidents that there ever was casting his eyes over her. She glanced over at Samuel who looked so star struck that she thought he'd faint.

"This man says he's from British intelligence." the military man replied.

"Well, tell him that this isn't Great Britain…hasn't been under a king for nearly ninety years." the President replied.

"He says there is a conspiracy afoot." the lieutenant replied.

"I see." the President said in a more interested tone.

"May I?" the Doctor said lowering his hands slowly. "I have reason to believe that there is an attempt to capture you, sir, tonight."

"You have evidence of this?" the President asked, looking at the Doctor with penetrating dark eyes.

"Not as such…" the Doctor replied, weakly. "However, I know there will be one. I must implore that you go to the governor's reception at the National Hotel. It's of utmost importance that you don't go the Campbell military hospital."

"And what's to say that you are not part of a conspiracy to capture me at the National Hotel?" the lieutenant replied. "We know that there are those in Europe who have put some political equity in the South's pocket. We know of the intelligence network in Montreal."

"Ah, well, yes." the Doctor replied, frowning slightly. "I assure you though, this is purely a construct of an Confederate agency."

"Then you won't mind giving us names and addresses." The President replied, looking sternly at the Doctor. "If you did so, with the lieutenant, here, I am most assured in his ability to capture, detain and stop any conspirator from hurting, myself, my wife and on a grander stage, this Union."

"Ah, well, that's the thing, I don't exactly have names…" The Doctor said, even Christina could tell he was lying, his body language screamed it.

"I see, Mr…a…" The President looked at the lieutenant.

"An Agent Hardwell." the lieutenant replied quickly.

"I very much doubt it…" The President said, taking a deep breath. "I thank you, Mr. Hardwell, for showing this much concern, and if you do think of those names do submit them. However, I will not change my schedule because of whispers of fear coming from complete strangers; if I were to do so then I would never have ran for my second term, sir. I trust these men whom I have shared my time with, I devote my life to, who I command; I trust these men with my life, completely and totally. If there is a conspiracy to kidnap me, woe be it to whomsoever try it with these great men guarding me."

"But Mr. President…" The Doctor tried to rebut, however the lieutenant blocked his advance. The Doctor looked to the lieutenant. "I really must, warn you, that this is not going to end well."

"Oh, really?" the lieutenant looked at the Doctor. "Is that a threat?"

"No…but…"

"Because it sounded like a threat." the officer continued.

"Doctor, maybe…we should…" Samuel started.

"Not now, Samuel." the Doctor retorted. He looked up, the President was walking to his carriage. "Mr. Lincoln, please, listen to me! It isn't just you who's at risk, everything this country is about is going to die when you are captured tonight!"

"Right, that's enough!" the officer grabbed the Doctor by the lapel and nearly lifted him off of the ground. "I suggest you go, now. You are treading a fine line, sir. One more word, and I'll have you thrown in prison until morning, hear me?"

The Doctor looked at the officer and narrowed his eyes, and then nodded sharply. The lieutenant put him down. The Doctor made to protest again but the officer put his hand to his side, next to a sidearm. The Doctor huffed and turned, walking away.

"That went spectacularly." Samuel said as the Doctor walked past.

"There's more than one way to skin a cat." The Doctor replied as he walked away. "Not that the feline particularly likes it either way."

Samuel and Christina turned their heads and watched as the carriage and the guards started to leave. Christina looked to Samuel. The two turned and started to follow the Doctor.

"It's odd, if there is this conspiracy to capture the president surely that large number of guards could stop a few loosely organized confederates." Christina said, as she walked.

"Yeah I have a hard time believing that Booth legitimately thought his band of guys could get through a military envoy." Samuel said shrugging his shoulders.

The Doctor stopped suddenly, looking up. "Of course…"

"What?" Samuel and Christina said in unison.

"I thought the change tonight was simply Booth capturing the President…" The Doctor said, slapping his forehead and turning around. "No, it's much more complicated than that…"

"It is?" Samuel said looking at the Doctor.

"Think about it." The Doctor said turning around. "Booth wanted to capture the President to free Confederate prisoners…now if Booth had killed Lincoln early the overall effect would've been the same and history wouldn't have been changed enough to be noticeable…but what if Booth was detained indefinitely, or killed early or at least so severely injured as to never be a threat?"

"Then Lincoln doesn't die…" Christina said, arching an eyebrow.

"Which sets off a series of events that greatly change American history…" the Doctor said, his eyes darting from Samuel to Christina and back. "A whole different set of presidents…which changes the global stage…leads to any number of events where something very bad happens which results in you never ever being able to have existed."

"So…" Christina was still trying to follow things.

"We have to stop Booth, or at least his co-conspirators." The Doctor said, as he turned to run. "If we don't, he'll get killed tonight and everything is over."

"But…if we let Booth get away he'll kill Lincoln." Christina said, grabbing the Doctor's arm. "We're going to let a murderer murder someone?"

The Doctor looked at Christina. "Some things have to be done. Some events are so important that if they don't happen everything that you know and love will be destroyed."

"But you're condemning a man to death…after you just told us that we were wrong for killing the Krynoid…" Samuel said, glaring at the Doctor.

"This is totally different. There's no other choice." The Doctor said sharply.

"We had no choice with the Krynoid either!" Samuel retorted.

"I don't enjoy this." The Doctor replied, he looked tired and old. "Trust me though, it's the only way. Abraham Lincoln will have to die, he can never finish his second term as president."

"Doctor, I don't know if I can do this." Christina said, looking him in the eyes. "Lincoln's death is one of the great tragedies in history. I don't know if I can have it on my conscience to let the man who committed this murder to just…get away when we can stop it."

"If you change this history." The Doctor said, grasping Christina's shoulders. "If you do this, then you can never go home, you won't even be able to leave the TARDIS. The result of this timeline is wrong. I'm a Time Lord, I have a responsibility to make sure that what happened happens."

"Oh, so just because you're the alien, means you get to choose who lives and who dies?!" Samuel shouted, glaring at the Doctor. "We don't get a say!?"

"You can't possibly comprehend the situation." The Doctor retorted. "It's like trying to warn the Aztecs about Cortez. It sounds good on paper, it sounds like the humane thing to do, but then the Aztecs figure out how to make guns and gunpowder from the Spanish…" the Doctor shifted uncomfortably as he looked at Christina and Samuel. "I won't ask you to do this if you don't want to, but I'm not going to stand by and let this happen. I have a responsibility to your futures to make sure Booth stays alive and kills Lincoln in Ford's theater."

The Doctor turned and then walked away.

* * *

"Abraham, maybe we should be listening to that man." Mary said quietly as she looked up at her husband. The carriage jostled slightly as it rode over the dirt road.

Abraham simply 'hmm'ed and took a deep breath through his nose. "I know that that man wasn't telling us everything, he knew more. I don't know why but I sensed it deep down in my core that he was lying to us."

"And what if that man wasn't lying to us?" Mary replied looking up at her husband's chiseled face almost as if it was set in stone. "What if you are kidnapped or worse?"

"Now, now, Mary, don't start getting all worked up about this." Abraham said, gently patting the back of Mary's hand. "The lieutenant has everything fine and under control. I swear they put far too much protection on me. It's like putting the guard dogs in front of the lavatory…I'm not that special. There are far more important men to kill than I."

"You're leading the Union, I would say that would be a mighty important reason to kill you." Mary replied shaking her head slightly.

"I don't lead, I simply observe and comment. I'm afraid it's Grant that's the one that's leading." Abraham replied quietly. He looked up at his wife. "There is talk that the war will end soon, however that was the same talk that was spoken at the very beginning of this mess." He leaned back in his seat. "As much as I believed in my actions at the time, and even now I know I was justified in them. I read the reports from the field and I wonder at times if I made the right decisions." The carriage rolled slowly to a stop and Abraham looked to his wife and shook his head and smiled at her, putting his hand gently on her knee. "Enough of this though, the reason we went out was to see a nice show. I say we enjoy our night out together."

* * *

John stood in the crowd. He saw the President's carriage role up. He gritted his teeth and scowled as the gangly clown got out with his frumpy wife. The President walked towards the doors of the hospital and went on in. John followed closely behind. He was so close, he could've probably killed the idiot right then and there, had he brought his derringer with him. An usher went with the President. John knew the President wasn't alone. He knew there were military men stationed all over the block surrounding the hospital and he'd seen at least one officer mingling with the crowd.

He sidled towards the room where the play's production was going to be done, and looked in. The President was sitting towards the front. A smiled curled under his moustache as he thought about them capturing him and taking him as a trophy back to Virginia.

"Kind of exciting isn't it?" said a voice into John's ear. John turned quickly to find an auburn haired man standing behind him. He was wearing a velveteen green jacket and a gray underneath the jacket.

"If you get excited by these sorts of things." John replied, half-heartedly hoping the stranger would go away.

"I mean you wonder how many guards he has hidden about." the man said quietly. "I hear that the Confederacy would love to capture him."

John's blood froze slightly and gave the stranger a sidelong glance. "I doubt the Confederates could muster the man power."

"Yeah probably right." the man replied. "I mean I saw at least thirty soldiers come up the street with the carriage. I mean you'd have to be pretty well armed to even consider pulling a stunt like capturing the President."

"I don't know, if one was well organized, and ready." John said, looking at the back of the President's head.

"He's a great man." the stranger said quietly.

John didn't reply. He'd have liked to but he had to be careful just in case. If Lincoln's men knew about the conspiracy this could be some sort of trap but then again the 'President' had already shown that he didn't care one jot about the legal system what with that travesty in Maryland. He looked at the stranger. He simmered on this for a minute and he felt it bubbling more intensely the longer the stranger hovered over his shoulder, simpering about the gangly travesty that was the Union's high executive.

"The man is a vulgar baboon." John replied finally as stranger's platitudes continued incessantly. He turned and narrowed his eyes. He pointed to the stage production. "He calls this theatre. A bunch of amateur idiots pretending they know what they are doing."

"Oh I don't know, the man that plays Mr. Potter is quite good…in my opinion." the stranger said shrugging his shoulders.

"The man is a hack." John snarled.

"Well, he is a bit hammish." The stranger admitted quietly. "And trust me I've seen ham."

"Who are you?" John narrowed his eyes at the stranger.

"A friend." the stranger said. "Just call me, the Doctor. Your conspiracy will fail, horribly. Back off, trust me."

"Oh, Agent Hardwell, I'm sure Mr. Booth's little plan will have no problems." John looked up. A Union soldier was standing behind the Doctor a gun pointed at them.

The Doctor turned.

"Lieutenant Zearing are you sure you should be…" John started slightly shocked at the brazenness of the lieutenant's action.

"What? Apprehending two threats to the security of our great Union?" the Lieutenant said, flicking his brown eyes at John. Two more soldiers were behind him.

"What are you talking about?" John hissed as one of the soldiers grabbed his arm, the other grabbing the Doctor's. John struggled. "Get off of me!" he glared at Zearing. "You're supposed to be helping me?"

"Help a rebel?" Zearing said almost in disgust. "Those weren't my orders, Mr. Booth. Mr. Stanton was most clear in that. You're just a scapegoat, that was always the plan."

"But I'm not a rebel!" The Doctor grumbled, looking up at Zearing.

"No, but you know too much. Same difference really." Zearing replied and then indicated for the two of them to be taken away. "Put them in jail."

* * *

"This is the restaurant." Samuel said as he walked forward. He opened the door and walked in. It wasn't so much a restaurant as a bar that served food and it was mostly empty save a group of men sitting a large round table in the corner.

"This is crazy, they'll kill us!" Christina hissed in Samuel's ear.

"We just have to distract them." Samuel replied, waving it off. "If we keep up a discussion…"

The men looked up at Samuel and Christina with a collective scowl.

"Umm, hello gents." Samuel said lifting a frightened hand up. "Are we doing anything particularly interesting this evening?"

The men continued to scowl in Samuel and Christina's general direction. There was a clock in the corner, ticking quietly. One of the men flicked an aggravated glare at it. He lifted his hand to his cleanly trimmed moustache and leaned over to a man next to him. The man turned his eyes to the clock.

Samuel looked to Christina and then took a deep reassuring breath and stepped forward. "He's not coming you know. Your friend, Booth. He's been captured by Union soldiers."

The men all looked up at Samuel as with one movement and paled slightly as they glared up at the young man. One of them jumped up. He pulled a gun from a leather holster and pointed it at Samuel. Almost instantly Samuel and Christina had their hands in the air.

"Just who are you?" the man grunted. He had wavy brown hair and a tufted beard that held close to his chin.

"Samuel Johnson." Samuel said, gulping slightly as he looked at the men. He tilted his head slightly to Christina, "And this is my….wife…Christina. We're a couple of friends of Mr. Booth…from Maryland…fighting the good fight against those tyrannous Yankee bastards…innit t'at right, Ma'?"

"So help me I'm going to kick you in the…" Christina started to say under her breath, but Samuel none-too-subtly stomped on her foot. "I mean, yes…yes, of course, Booth's friends, Maryland…Blue-coated abolitionist scum…yeah, rar…go…umm…Confederacy…woo…and stuff."

"Yeah, that sold it." Samuel said looking back at the man with the gun.

"George, put the gun down. Obviously if they were working against us they would've just told the Union soldiers where we were." another man said, getting up from the table. He looked like he was about three inches short of six foot tall, and had a moustache with sharply handle barred ends.

"That's easy for you to say, John," the man with the gun growled, glancing back at him before returning his glare to Samuel and Christina. "You have an alibi if things go bad."

"If things go down badly, it won't make any difference." the man said tugging at his jacket and walking forward, he took George's hand and lowered the gun. He then looked to Samuel. "Now, Mr. Johnson, tell us everything you know."

"Ah…well, see all we know is that Mr. Booth isn't coming." Samuel said, lowering his hands, he looked to Christina and she lowered hers as well. He then looked to John. "You see, we got word from the Confederacy intelligence agency that any action against Lincoln will have to wait…umm, there's a major detail protecting the president tonight and President Davis worries what would happen to the prisoners if we were to take such a heavy handed action…"

John looked at Samuel and then at Christina. He nodded slowly and tugged at his jacket again, gently grasping his lapels. "I see. Makes sense, I suppose. Whole point of this was to get prisoners back, no good if they are dead. Really quite wise, all things considered. From President Davis himself, eh? Definitely sounds like something he'd say. Well, boys, guess that means only one thing…" John turned and started to walk away. Samuel smiled to Christina. John sat down, crossing his legs "George, cover 'em."

"Wait, what!?" Samuel said quickly as George's gun barrel flashed into his face.

"That detail is working with us." John said, entwining his hands and laying them in his lap . "We haven't been in contact with Confederate intelligence for, what is now, a month. So, you see, Mr. Johnson., we have no reason to believe you. I think you're Union agents, trying to keep us from our mission to capture the President."

"But…like you said, if we worked for the Union, most assuredly we'd just call the soldiers and have them arrest you. In fact, we have, and they are coming now, you better run!" Samuel retorted, attempting a façade of self-righteous confidence.

"Well, then it's a good thing we have hostages." John replied, "valuable, Union intelligence hostages." He looked up at the clock and stood up. "The show'll be over now, we should get into positions." John looked to George and then to another man, who was clean shaven with almost boyish features. "Lewis stay here with George, watch our guests, if they move, kill 'em."

The other men got up and started to walk out the door of the bar. Samuel looked to Christina as the man named Lewis walked up to them and pushed them into chairs. He smiled at them with a overly villainous grin.

"Don't worry your pretty little head." Lewis said, patting Christina's head, gently stroking her red hair in a slightly creepy fashion. "We'll make sure your stay with us is right acceptable. Isn't that right, George?"

George nodded and smiled far too happily for Christina's liking. It was then that she felt it. It was like the entire universe punched her in the stomach. She shouted slightly as she winced, and slowly looked over at Samuel. He was doubled over.

"The waveform…is closing…" Samuel grunted as the pain seemed to tighten.


End file.
